Mr Brightside
by SheWritesInCursive
Summary: A M/K/D fic mostly from Dutchy's POV. "He supposed that this was the price he payed for falling in love with his boss. Because he knew he was in love with a woman who didn't love him back." General MK Spoilers and some swearing.


Alrighty guys... so I haven't uploaded in ages. Have kind of lost all motivation to finish all my others, so here's a oneshot for you all. Pretty much, my friends sent me this challenge on LiveJournal where basically you put your iPod on shuffle and had to write a drabble with that song before it finished, and do that until you have ten drabbles. I wrote this one to Mr Brightside by The Killers and decided to turn it into an actual fic, so hopefully it is of an acceptable standard for you all. Please review as they make me smile.

So yeah, thanks. Anything you recognise I borrowed from Channel 9 and McElroy. Thanks.

**Mr Brightside  
[Kate/Dutchy]**

It was a cool Thursday evening, their first night in port. The crew had all congregated at the pub, intending to drink away their two month patrol and enjoy their time on shore. As well as the entire Hammersley crew and their new captain, Lieutenant Commander Richard Taylor, they were also joined by several members of their former crew. Mike had been invited to the night out, giving him the opportunity to get away from the stress of his Navy promotion, if only for one night, and had entered hand in hand with Kate. They had publically announced their relationship a little over six months ago, soon after he had returned to NAVCOM, and neither one of them had ever been happier.

Bomber, now known as Becca, had joined 2Dads, their relationship still going strong despite the distance, and by some lucky coincidence Spider, Nikki and Buffer were also in port, so it was almost like old times.

After the hugs and introductions to the newer crew members were over, the boys, naturally, began a drinking competition. Normally Nikki, formally known as Nav, would have joined in [and beaten all the guys hands down] but today she refused so Nikki, Becca and Kate sat in one corner, gossiping and catching up on news.

They had all missed their gossip sessions. Bec had left the Navy the previous month after being caught kissing 2Dads on the ship, and had started working in a cafe near port. Nikki had left the ship not long after they had caught her fiancée's murderers, feeling the need to make a fresh start elsewhere. Kate had remained on Hammersley as the executive officer, feeling slightly alone from the rest of the crew as being the only girl on the ship excluding Bird, so they enjoyed the opportunity to catch up.

They were halfway through a discussion about a Lieutenant Jackson, whom Nikki now served with and thought was hopeless, Kate agreeing. She was just through relaying his latest stuff-up, a boarding plan he had used instead of her own, which had ended in drama.

"I mean, he was bloody lucky no one was killed. As it is, poor Banjo had a massive cut down her arm and a broken wrist. She needed stitches for goodness sake!" Both Bec and Kate nodded sympathetically at Nikki's words, Kate agreeing whole-heartedly, having known him at ADFA.

"I knew him at officer training. Dumb as a doorknob." They all shared a laugh, and Nikki opened her mouth to say something else until a glint of light on Kate's hand caught her eye, and she screamed loud enough to get the attention of the entire room.

"Katelyn McGregor, what is that on your hand?" And so it was revealed. Kate McGregor and Mike Flynn were engaged. Laughter, many shouts of _"it's about bloody time!" _and _"finally!" _filled the pub before someone, probably 2Dads, declared that it was Mike's shout for drinks.

Dutchy was the only one not celebrating, removing himself from the happy group in exchange for quietly retreating to the veranda outside, watching the sun go down as he sipped his beer. Everyone else was caught up in the moment, which had allowed him some time to think.

He had never been in love before. Lust, definitely, but never love. That was, at least until he had met her. He had been captivated by her from the moment he saw her. She was beautiful, caring, kind, smart, funny and most definitely sexy. But at the same time, she scared him. He was terrified that she one day wouldn't get out of one of the many dangerous situations she got into. His job as a Buffer was to watch her back and keep her out of trouble, but it was extremely difficult when you had a trouble magnet for an executive officer.

He had distanced himself from her, his logic that he wouldn't be too personally involved if she got into danger and could think with a clear head, but several months into the patrol he realised that it was so that he would have less to miss when she left like everyone in his life did. Except that she had pushed him and nagged him until he had exploded, telling her that he couldn't protect her when she had been taken hostage with a knife to her throat. All he could do was stare, his breathing sharp as he played every worst case scenario over and over in his head. He had frozen. He had failed to protect her.

Except that, later, when he had told her, she had assured him it wasn't his fault, over and over again until finally she had broken down his barriers and he let her in. It had been both the best and worst thing he had ever done. He was usually the quiet guy, the one that kept all his cards close to his chest, and she had been the one to change that, the only one he had trusted. It was both calming to have someone to talk to and petrifying to know that one woman had so much power over him.

He supposed that this was the price he payed for falling in love with his boss. Because he knew he was in love with a woman who didn't love him back. He loved her, and she loved Mike.

He chanced a glance over at the bar, and the green eyed monster reared in him as he saw just how close together they were. Mike was standing next to her, a hand around her waist and both of them were laughing and carefree, everything they ever wanted right in front of them. She turned to look outside mid-laugh, and froze as she saw him. Their eyes met for what could have been minutes or simply seconds, before she looked away, blushing slightly.

Downing the rest of his drink, he headed back inside, heading towards them. He was rearing for a fight, wanting to deflect some of the excruciating pain he was feeling in his chest onto someone else. He stormed up to them both, Kate averting her eyes guiltily as he stopped in front of them.

"Congratulations Mike." He shook Mike's hand, both gripping slightly tighter than was necessary. _If you hurt her again you answer to me. _No words were needed for his threat to be understood by the other man. His eyes said it all. Then he turned coldly to Kate, his eyes dark.

"Congratulations Ma'am." He allowed his eyes to sweep from her to glance at her fiancée, before his eyes flicked back and he continued, "Looks like you got everything you wanted."

She opened her mouth to reply, then closed it, realising she had no idea at all of what to say to him. It was too late anyway, because at that moment he turned quickly and left, the rumble of thunder in the distance in time with the slamming of the door.

* * *

Half a bottle of scotch and several rainy hours later and she was still on his mind. He couldn't understand why fate was so cruel to him. Every time something seemed to be going good in his life, something, or someone, always had to ruin it.

_The day he had finally acknowledged that he was in love with her he had turned up to her house, intent on telling her how he felt. When she had opened the door his heart had been pounding out of his chest and his palms were sweaty. _

"_I have to tell you something." He said after she had invited him in. _

"_Me too." She had squeaked, barely able to contain her excitement. _

"_Well, you first." He flashed a dorky smile in her direction, feeling like a teenager on his first date. _

"_Ok. Dutchy, I'm back with Mike!" Her smile was wide, and she was practically jumping up and down she was so happy. _

_His gut was twisting into knots, his heart was breaking. Everything was spinning. If this was love, he didn't want it. _

"_That... that's great." He forced out, his world crashing down as he hugged her._

_When they broke apart she turned to him, her smile still on her face. _

"_So, what was it you wanted to tell me?" She was still smiling, spinning slowly around. _

"_Noth- nothing. It's not important." _

He took another swig, hoping to stem the memories now flooding through his mind, but it was no use.

"Fucking hell!" He screamed suddenly, knocking his hand and sending the bottle flying across the room. It hit the wall, the remaining liquid trickling down before it pooled on the beige carpet, but he was beyond caring.

He swore again, knocking a pile of books and magazines off the table. He knocked chairs over and flung a stack of papers fluttering to join the debris. He felt a slight twinge in his arm but ignored it, choosing to throw a shoe across the room, reaching for the other before-

A knock sounded at the door. How he heard it over the clanging and banging he didn't know, and for a moment he debated whether or not he should open it. But then again it wasn't like he could pretend that he wasn't home.

"Dylan. Please." It was her. The source of all his problems.

He crossed the room in two easy strides and threw open the door to reveal the blonde haired dilemma.

For several minutes they stood there, simply staring at each other. Neither one knew what to say, both stuck in fight or flight. Kate was mentally kicking herself for coming here unannounced, both of them unsure as to why she had. There was nothing but her sharp pants and his deep rage-driven breaths, still standing in the doorway. Then she let out a shiver, forcing both of them to move. He took in her appearance, his eyes travelling down her saturated clothing.

"Did you walk here in the rain?" He murmured, tilting his head to one side.

"Ran." She panted, her teeth chattering. _Why would you do that to see me? _

She took in his crumpled clothing, and then the room. Her eyes hovered for a second on the black scuff high on the rooftop before focusing her attention back at him. He raised his eyes at her, as if challenging her to speak. She didn't rise though, instead focusing on his hand. She gasped suddenly as something caught her eye.

"Dutchy!" Her voice was shrill and sharp, her eyes dark and accusing.

"What?" He took a step back, confused as to why she was suddenly mad at him.

"You're bleeding." So lost and disorientated, it took a few seconds for what she had said to sink in. _He was bleeding? _Dylan didn't get what she meant. Then he felt a trickling down his wrist and, bringing it closer to the light, took in the swirling red twisting its way around his wrist and plunging onto the carpet.

She gripped the sleeve of his T-Shirt, the tallest bit she could reach, before dragging him into the kitchen. She made a fuss of cleaning the wound, before turning to him.

"It doesn't look too deep. It shouldn't need stitches." She smiled at him, and proceeded to wrap his hand gently in a bandage.

"It should be okay." She finished, standing unsurely. She let out another shiver and once again Dutchy took in her appearance. She was soaking wet, water dripping from her nose, her hair plastered to her head. Her teeth were chattering, her lips were blue and her mascara was slightly smudged, giving her eyes a smoky appearance.

"Thanks. Here, you're freezing." He whispered, ushering her into the lounge room. He left her to take in the mess while Dutchy headed to his bedroom and retrieved a loose T-shirt that would be long enough to cover the essentials.

"Here" He handed her the T-Shirt, glancing at it apologetically. "Sorry, but I haven't got anything else that would-"

"I'm fine." She muttered quickly, but he wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Kate, you will freeze! Put it on, and I'll chuck your clothes in the dryer." Once again she opened her mouth to retort, but he cut her off, putting his hands on her shoulders and ushering her into the bathroom, nudging her in and closing the door behind her.

* * *

Five minutes later they were sitting awkwardly on his lounge, the T-Shirt hanging just above her knees doing nothing but magnifying his desires for her. After the situation with the grog runners and them both being tied up in the pontoon, they had become really good friends. And like most good friends, they could make a day long conversation about the most random things possible, but today they sat in an uncomfortable silence.

He had so many things he wanted to ask, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable, so instead he settled with, "So... Why are you here?"

She looked up quickly, almost as if she was shocked at him being there, like she had forgotten. She took a moment to answer, as if she were considering him, before replying.

"I was worried... about you."

"And your fiancée isn't worried about you?"

She didn't reply, biting her tongue and flashing him a patented McGregor glare.

"Does he even know where you are?" He continued, wanting to hurt her.

"I'm at Nikki's." She replied simply, focusing on her feet.

There was a time when he would have found her lies funny, but today it just seemed to make him angry. He stood up suddenly, pushing himself up from the lounge with such force she flinched. He began pacing, looking anywhere but at her. She drew her knees up to her chest, curling back into the cushions, her eyes following him.

"Dylan. Please talk to me. What's wrong?" He stopped at that, whirling around and stalking back towards the lounge so that he was standing directly above her.

"What's wrong?" He mocked, giving a cross between a smirk and a snarl. "What's wrong?"

She made herself even smaller, but even though her eyes wide they never lost their fight.

"What's wrong is that you're off marrying the same guy that's broken your heart- oh, how many times now?" He paused to think, still mocking her, and proceeded to tick each event off of his fingers.

"Well, when he left you at ADFA. That's one. Then he called your relationship a 'thing'. Then there was when he started screwing around with that Ursula girl." Kate opened her mouth to interject, but Dutchy's voice rose above her own.

"**Then **when got all hypocritical when you met someone and tried to move on."

"And that hardly counts as breaking my hea-"

"**And then**," He was practically yelling now, **"**when he came back to the boat after the shore posting of, what, one day, was it? And then he just **expected **everything to be fine and-"

"Stop it! Stop it! **Stop it!**" She was standing up too, and even though the top of her head barely reached his shoulders he could still see the anger in her eyes.

"You think I don't know this?" She was circling him now, and it was his turn to step backwards. "You think that I don't lay awake at night and wonder if it's even worth the risk?" She took a step forward, and he ducked down, so that they were face to face, mere centimetres apart.

"So is it worth the risk?" He whispered, their foreheads touching. Dylan's hand circled around her waist and held her closer, neither of them averting their eyes from the other. She had tears flooding hers, and as soon as his lips touched her forehead the dam broke. The tears poured down, racking her body and Dylan found himself half holding, half supporting her as she sobbed into his chest.

He gently lowered them both into a sitting position back on the lounge, cradling her in his lap as she slowly saturated his shirt. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his shoulder. He soothed her, rubbing circles on her back as she rocked ever so slightly.

He enjoyed this, having her in his arms, knowing that for once he was the one keeping her safe, that **he **was the saviour, and so he took the opportunity to enjoy it. She smelt of strawberries and wine, and something else he just couldn't place. To him, it was the smell of happiness.

But she wasn't happy.

Eventually she managed to hiccup herself into silence, and looked up blearily into his eyes, becoming aware that she was cradled in his lap crying her heart out. Almost immediately, as he had predicted, she moved away from him, heading towards the opposite side of the lounge, as far away from him as she could get, curling her legs under herself again.

They were silent except for the occasional hiccup or sniff, and it was several minutes before Dutchy mustered the courage to speak again.

"Kate. You... if you're having doubts..." He was unsure how to word it. How was he supposed to ask if she really wanted to marry the guy that had broken her heart so many times before?

At his comment, she gave a small, manic laugh.

"Doubts?" She shrieked hysterically, her hands flailing madly, as if the movement would make him understand. "I have doubts about every single thing I ever do, Dutchy. I'm a doubtful person."

She got up again suddenly, padding barefoot in to his kitchen, and Dutchy had to close his eyes to rid himself of the image of her natural domesticity in his flat. She looked so cute gliding around in his house, dressed only in one of his T-Shirts, and even though he knew that it wasn't the time to be thinking about that, he couldn't help but smile.

He heard the opening of cupboards and the chinking of glasses before she returned, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and two glasses in the other. Placing the bottle on the coffee table, she filled one glass for him and one for herself, which she sculled, before pouring herself another.

"Hey, slow down!" His large hand closed around her wrist as she went for a third, and she glared at him, but surrendered, retreating to the lounge again.

"Why are you here?" He asked again, quieter still. She paused for a moment, as if she were thinking, before leaning forwards, looking him in the eye, seeking him out.

"Does it matter?" He stared pointedly at her, and she sighed, before continuing.

"I guess... I guess I just needed a friend." She looked nervously down at the end of her confession, focusing on her feet.

"Haven't you got a fiancée for that?" He retorted, wanting to make her hurt as much as he was. To her credit her eyes only flashed for a second, before she continued.

"I can't... I can't tell him stuff. You don't... you don't tell me I'm being stupid, or think about it logically... you just listen. At least you used to."

Dutchy averted his eyes, guilt settling in the pit of his stomach. _She's your best friend. Just be happy for her._

"I'm sorry. I-" He mentally kicked himself for being so stupid. Fresh tears trickled down her cheeks, but she ignored them, fiddling with the thread on his well worn armchair. Sweeping forwards from his seat on the lounge to her perched in his armchair, he tucked a hand under her chin and gently raised it, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry. About everything. I just... I don't want to see you do anything you don't want to."

She gave him a sideways glance and he sighed before continuing.

"If you love someone, you should be able to tell them anything." _Hypocrite! Hypocrite! Hypocrite!_

"If you don't want to marry him," He took a deep breath before finishing, "You don't have to."

"You're acting like someone's forcing me into it, Dutchy."

"Well, aren't you, even just a little bit?" He knew he was pushing her now, something he hated doing but he had to at least make sure she was happy.

"What..." Her voice went dry and she swallowed before finishing. "What do you mean?"

_I mean I'm here and you could pick me instead! I exist and I love you!_

"I mean... well, do you love him?"

As soon as he'd asked he regretted it. He didn't think he could stand it if the one person he loved really did love someone else.

There was silence for several minutes. It was the longest silence he had ever heard, and it was like the world stopped. Somewhere in the distance he heard the beeping of his dryer telling him that Kate's clothes were dry, but he ignored it. It didn't matter; nothing else mattered, except the need for her to release the crushing weight on his chest. He could barely breathe; his heart was beating out of his chest and it seemed like forever before she finally whispered her answer.

"I don't know anymore, Dylan."

_[End]_


End file.
